


Present While You Were Unconscious

by KayQy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, While You Were Sleeping AU, but it's gonna be such a ride, relationship and character tags subject to additions, this is all tumblr's fault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:38:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayQy/pseuds/KayQy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Phil Coulson saves Steve Rogers from a horrible train accident, somehow everyone thinks they're engaged. Steve's in a coma and can't tell anyone that they've barely spoken to each other, and Phil is finding it harder and harder to confess that it was only ever a hopeless crush on his part, as he gets to know Steve's enormous, crazy, unlikely family.... including his brother, Clint.</p>
<p>A While You Were Sleeping AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can blame raiining and others on tumblr for planting this idea in my head to begin with. And I have to thank most-like-a-kumquat and deadonrevival for encouraging and letting me brainstorm at them even though they've never seen the movie.
> 
> Merry Christmas!

"I'm telling you, Phil, you are wasted in that job. With your experience--"

Phil raised his eyebrows at his friend and former teammate, Nick Fury, even though said friend could not see him over the phone. "We've been over this, Nick. I've served my country, and now I just want a little peace and quiet. Besides, my experience is at least five years out of date by now. I'm not the man for your position anymore."

"Bullshit. You could do just about anything you set your mind to, and the best you could come up with is working a ticket booth at the local train station? You must have been bored out of your mind after the first week."

"It's not that boring," Phil said. "You see all sorts of people go through the station."

"People you never actually talk to," said Fury. "Unless you've grown a pair since I last saw you and you actually talked to Mister All-American Boy."

Phil groaned. "I regret ever mentioning him to you." He crumpled up the empty wrapper from his hot dog and tossed it in the trash. "I'll talk to you later, Nick."

"At least wish him a Merry Christmas or something," Nick said before hanging up

Phil pocketed his phone and pretended that it wasn't depressing that Fury automatically assumed that he was working Christmas Day.

At least, no more depressing than actually working Christmas Day.

~*~*~

The station was practically empty this early in the morning; most of the people travelling to friends and family had done so the day before, and were cozy at home with their loved ones. Like most of his coworkers. "It's okay," he told himself, "people who actually have family should get the chance to be with them. Better for this job to be done by a lonely old man with no where else to be."

"I'm sorry?"

Phil jumped and looked up into a familiar pair of gorgeous blue eyes. "I, uh," he said intelligently. "Token?"

"Sorry, I thought you were talking to me." The gorgeous, muscular blonde Phil had been hopelessly crushing on for the past 3 months smiled apologetically and dropped his token into the bowl.

"No, sorry, I just—" Phil remembered Fury's advice and took a deep breath. "Marry me."

The man blinked. "Pardon?"

Phil knew he was turning as bright red as the man's scarf. "I mean, I said— uh, Merry Christmas."

"Oh." The man smiled again, and even through his utter mortification Phil's heart fluttered. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

Phil smiled and nodded and as soon as the man had walked through the turnstile he beat his face against the counter with a groan. _Just kill me now._

Despite his embarrassment, Phil couldn't stop watching the man as he walked down the nearly-empty platform to wait for the train. He couldn't help himself; the man was the pinnacle of human perfection. The biceps and pecs Phil had first glimpsed a few months ago were now buried under a dark blue winter coat and the scarf, his blonde hair by a blue knit cap, but no amount of winter gear could hide the breadth of his shoulders, the blue of his eyes, the chiseled jaw, the invariably kind smile. And it wasn't just his appearance that was perfect: the man was unfailingly polite and helpful, letting people go ahead of him, holding doors for folks laden with packages, helping to pick up fallen objects, once even reuniting a lost child with his mother. And today he'd wished Phil a merry Christmas.

_Another three months and I might even get his name._

Phil rubbed his face wearily. It wasn't as if marriage was something he seriously considered, especially in regards to handsome near-strangers, but with the equal rights legislation that had passed last month, it was all people seemed to talk about lately. And really, was it too much to ask for someone to be with, even if it wasn't until 'death do us part'?

Mr. Perfect suddenly turned from where he was standing and strode quickly out of Phil's line of sight, walking with too much purpose to simply be stretching his legs. Phil leaned over the counter and pressed up against the window, then when he still couldn't see where the man had went, opened the door to his kiosk-thingy and leaned out.

The man was heading directly to the station security's big blind spot at the end of the platform, and now Phil could see his target: a couple of punks harrassing a young woman. Part of Phil thought that OF COURSE Mr. Perfect was also a knight in shining armor. The rest of him was already drifting closer, torn between stepping in and leaving his post when he was the only teller open. He pulled his phone out as a compromise, and told himself he would act if it looked to get violent.

But when it got violent, it did so too quickly: Mr. Perfect grabbed the arm of the punk that was trying to grab the girl, and the punk swung around, almost in reflex, and hit the man in the face while the second punk shoved him in the chest. All that likely would not have done more than stun the man for a moment-- Phil had been admiring how solidly built the man was for a while now, after all-- but he was standing right at the edge of the platform, and when the punk pushed, he fell backwards over the edge.

Phil's was already running, his shout swallowed up by the girl's scream. The two punks stared over the edge for a second, clearly shocked, then took off as fast as they could in opposite directions. Phil didn't bother trying to catch them, in fact ignored them other than to note down physical descriptions. He came to a stop at the edge of the platform with a bit of a stagger and looked down.

The man was laying on his back across the train tracks, unconscious. At least Phil hoped he was just unconscious. He tossed his phone at the girl and snapped, "Call 911!" He bent and jumped carefully down to the tracks, then had to wait interminable seconds convincing his knee to not crumple under his weight. _Not now, dammit._ He stumbled over to the man's prone form, knelt to check the man's vitals, and huffed a sigh of relief when he got a pulse. "Sir, can you answer me?"

"Is he dead?" called the woman. 

"No," Phil called back. "He's unconscious, though. His breathing's shallow, and--" he shifted around-- "it looks like he hit his head, there's some blood here."

"The operator says don't move him, you could break his spine," she said.

"I know!" Phil bit back the "I'm not an idiot" that he wanted to add to that. He reached for the man's neck to check his pulse again, intending this time to actually measure it and not just make sure it existed.

But he was interrupted by a blaring horn. Phil looked up in horror at the 8:20 express train that was rounding the corner. "Oh god." He patted the man's face gently, then more desperately. "Please, please wake up, that train's not stopping, we need to MOVE--" But the man remained unconscious, and the train was barrelling closer--

With a desperate burst of adrenaline, Phil grabbed the man by the jacket and rolled them both to the side, under the platform's overhang, just as the train roared past. For a while it was nothing but noise and confusion, the screeching of brakes, the rumble of the train, someone saying "oh god oh god" over and over again.

Wait, that someone was Phil.

~*~*~

"Excuse me, I'm looking for-- can you tell me where--"

The emergency room was a madhouse of sick infants and broken arms and one idiot who'd somehow sat on a Christmas tree topper, and Phil cursed the policemen that had held him back to get his statement and description of the attackers when he'd turned out to have nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. The ambulance had taken off with the still-unconscious Mr. Perfect, and now Phil was left trying desperately to find someone who knew where he'd been taken or how he was or-- anything, really.

He stepped in front of a passing nurse. "Excuse me, there was a man admitted this morning, from the train station? Where would he have been taken?"

The nurse, a young woman with dark brown hair and a nametag that said "Skye", took in his disheveled appearance, frowned and said, "Can you tell me his name?"

"Uh...." The crushing reminder that Phil _still_ didn't even know the guy's name was interrupted when he saw a familiar blond head flash by on a gurney and through some double doors labeled "ICU". "There! That's him!" He lunged for the doors, but the nurse caught him with surprising strength.

"Wait! Only family's allowed back there. Are you related to him? Do you have some proof of ID?"

"I--" Phil stared at the doors swinging closed. There was no connection between him and the man. Not really. Just glimpses at a train station, a handful of words, because he'd been too much of a coward, when if he'd just made the effort, tried to reach out, said something to him sooner, asked for his damn _name_.... well. Who knew what might have been?

_I could have married him. ___

__And now it was too late._ _

__But apparently he looked trustworthy enough, or maybe just pathetic enough, because the nurse's face softened and she tugged him to the door. "Come on."_ _

__~*~*~_ _

__

__His name was Steve Rogers._ _

__That was the name on the door, at least; the nurses must have found an ID in his wallet or something, because he was still unconscious. "Technically, he's comatose," Skye-the-nurse said. "But it's really not something to worry about-- the docs took care of the hemorraging in his skull, and being in a coma for a few days after an injury like this is pretty normal. Not too bad considering how close he came to being run over by a train."_ _

__Phil shuddered, thinking of the train rushing past, pressed hard against the platform with a heavy body lying on top of him, the terror that he might have missed by just an inch, that if he let go he'd slip and the train would hit them both, and it was all just too _close_ , the whole thing, and he was still shaking, and couldn't stop, and dammit he hadn't had an episode in months but he supposed that today he was certainly entitled to one..._ _

__"Hey, are you all right?" he heard Skye say distantly, felt her hands guide him to the visitor's chair. He gripped the armrests tight, taking comfort in the solidity of the plastic and padded vinyl under his skin._ _

__"I'm fine," he forced out-- between chattering teeth, so probably not very convincingly. "Just-- like you said, it was-- really close."_ _

__Skye searched his face thoughtfully. "You were there, weren't you?" He nodded, or tried to. "Right, sorry. I'll... get you some water, okay?"_ _

__"Sure," Phil managed. She walked away, and Phil cast about for something, anything, to focus on-- the blurry landscape on the wall, the TV currently turned off... finally his eyes settled on Mr. Perfect's-- Steve's-- chest as it gently rose and fell with each breath. Unaided, and that was a good sign, that he wasn't on life support, that he could breathe on his own. Phil felt his own body still and calm as his breathing slowed to match Steve's._ _

__"Who are you?"_ _

__Phil jerked up and turned to the door. A horde of people was crowding into the room-- really only about half a dozen, Phil realized later, but each of them had enough presence to fill an entire squadron, from the tiny redhead with the poise of a dancer, to the enormous blond man in front who asked the question. "I'm, uh, Phil Coulson," he said. And just like that, he was the interloper again, intruding between this virtual stranger and what was obviously his family frowning at him in various stages of confusion and suspicion._ _

__"And how do you know our brother Steve?"_ _

__"I, uh--"_ _

__"He's his fiance," chirped Skye. She sidled through the group still blocking the door and handed a bottle of water to Phil, who nearly dropped it, too busy staring aghast at the nurse._ _

__"What?" Phil's own exclamation was drowned out by everyone else's as they all started talking at once._ _

__"He never said anything!" "I thought he was still seeing that Tony guy." "Who?" "The short guy with a goatee?" "I never met him." "I did, he was a jerk." "Well good riddance then." "But why didn't he say anything?" "I never heard of either of these guys!"_ _

__"Will everyone please be QUIET?" The last was roared out by the scruffy, scholarly-looking middle-aged man in the middle of the group. Phil heard Nurse Skye squeak and felt a bit better about having to calm his own racing heart. The rest of the group fell instantly silent, and the man added, somewhat more calmly, "This is a hospital."_ _

__"Sorry, Bruce," said the other dark-haired man, who then turned to Phil. "So, fiance? Got here pretty fast. Did they call you first or were you there when it happened?"_ _

__"No, I-- I just pulled him off the tracks--"_ _

__"Wait, you are the one who saved his life?" Big and Blond exclaimed._ _

__"Er, yes?"_ _

__Suddenly Phil was enveloped in a crushing hug. "Welcome to the family, Coulson! Our gratitude will be eternal!"_ _

__"Moving a bit fast there, Thor," the brunette said. He held out a hand as Thor finally released Phil, who tried not to gasp for breath too visibly. "He's right about the gratitude, though. Bucky Barnes. You've met Thor, that's Bruce, Natasha, and Kate." Phil nodded along as if he was following him just fine. "We made everyone else stay behind to hold the fort-- they didn't like it, but we didn't want to overwhelm the hospital." Someone behind him snorted, and Bucky held a finger over his shoulder without turning around._ _

__"Carol said that by the time they made it up here, Steve would probably be ready to come home, so why bother?" the black-haired teenage girl (Natasha? No, that one was Kate, Phil thought) said. She glanced over at the hospital bed, then back around the room with a challenging look that Phil recognized all too well._ _

__"He'd be stubborn enough to do it, that punk," Bucky agreed with a smile. They were all putting on a brave face, and Phil didn't blame them, but he felt again like he was intruding, and tried to quietly slip away before they noticed him again. Only his knee decided that now was the perfect time to finally give out on him. He grabbed for the nearest thing to hold him up, which happened to be Bucky's left arm. Except instead of an arm, Phil felt something hard, like metal or plastic, under the coat sleeve, which pulled free under Phil's weight and nearly yanked the other man down with him. Thor caught them both, and helped Phil to a chair, while Bucky swore and fumbled at his coat and shirt until the redhead came and helped him._ _

__"I am so sorry," Phil gasped._ _

__"Not your fault," Bucky grunted as the clothing was pulled away to reveal a prosthetic arm hanging loose from his shoulder. "Was in such a hurry to leave earlier that I didn't set the damn thing properly-- I know, Natasha," he added to the redhead, who was muttering at him in Russian. "Don't start with me."_ _

__"What of you?" Thor asked Phil, looking concerned. "Were you injured saving our brother?"_ _

__"Did the doctors look you over yet?" Bruce added._ _

__"No, yes, I--" Phil gritted his teeth. "This is an old... issue. Nothing to do with today, I'll be fine in a minute."_ _

__"It's easy for old injuries to be exacerbated by new stressors, though," Kate said, "you should still get it examined closely."_ _

__"Are you in med school?" Phil said._ _

__"Pre-med. How'd you know?"_ _

__"You sound like you're quoting a textbook."_ _

__Kate huffed, and someone behind her snorted, but mercifully, before she could retort, Natasha said, "Kate, run down to the truck and get the toolkit, Bucky's screwed this whole thing up again."_ _

__"No, don't bother, just take it off for now."_ _

__"James, we talked about this--"_ _

__"Well, if a man can't walk around a hospital with one arm, we've got more problems than just a few loose screws!"_ _

__Their argument slipped into Russian-- whispered Russian, after another sharp hiss from Bruce-- Kate bounced out of the room, and Thor and Bruce drifted over to Steve's bed-- casually, but somehow Phil got the feeling that they had experience dealing gently with wounded pride. Either way, best to take advantage of it. He stood-- traitorous knee cooperating this time-- and mumbled something about having to go, hoping to slip out as close to unnoticed as possible._ _

__"One moment!" said Thor. "Have you a number where we can reach you, in case he wakes while you are gone?"_ _

__Phil hesitated, but the thought of not knowing Steve's fate was enough to make him rattle off his number. He looked at Steve one last time, still unchanged through all the chaos and noise._ _

__"He always could sleep through anything," Bucky said with a rueful smile, catching his glance._ _

__Phil nodded, smiled weakly, and finally escaped the room. But before he left the hospital, he had to find a certain nurse._ _

__~*~*~_ _

__"Why did you tell them I was his fiance?" he hissed._ _

__"Because you said you were!" Skye hissed back._ _

__"What? No, I didn't!"_ _

__"Well, technically you said you 'could have married him', but I figured you were just being morbid!" Skye stepped back. "Wait, this isn't some creepy stalkerish thing, is it?"_ _

__"No! I just... saw him at the station sometimes." Phil could feel his face turning red again._ _

__"And it really was you that saved him from the train, right?"_ _

__"I pulled him off the tracks, yes."_ _

__"Well, good." Skye breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Then you can explain the misunderstanding to them, and they'll still be so grateful to you for saving his life that they won't be mad at you for pretending to be his fiance--"_ _

__"I wasn't trying to pretend--"_ _

__"--and they won't complain to the hospital and get me fired." Skye looked up at Phil pleadingly until he sighed in defeat._ _

__"Fine."_ _

__"Great. I better get back to work now."_ _

__"Skye," he called as she turned away. "Thanks."_ _

__"No problem, Mr. C," she said with a grin. "Go make sure the rest of your Christmas is better than this, okay?"_ _

__"Sure," he sighed._ _

__~*~*~_ _

__

__"Hey, Phil, Merry-- holy crap, what happened to you?" Phil's landlord, Jasper Sitwell, stared from his apartment door. "You look like you were hit by a train."_ _

__Phil huffed out something that probably sounded nothing like a laugh. "No, but it was very close."_ _

__Sitwell frowned. "Wait, are you serious? Are you okay? Do you need anything?"_ _

__"I'm fine, just really very tired. Can I tell you about it tomorrow?"_ _

__"Sure, sure. Oh, I got those tickets to my cousin's New Year's Eve concert, you want them now?"_ _

__"Tomorrow," Phil repeated. He forced a smile. "Merry Christmas, Jasper."_ _

__"...Merry Christmas." With one last dubious look, Sitwell closed the door, and Phil escaped up to his own apartment._ _

__He didn't know how long he stood in the doorway, staring blankly at the far wall until Cap butted her head against his shin, mewling insistently. Probably not very long, Cap wasn't that patient. He got out a tin of the fancy wet food he gave Cap on special occasions, petted her absently while he ate some crackers and reheated coffee, too tired to do more. He turned on the TV and flipped through channels, pausing in morbid curiosity on a news piece about the accident at the station (thank God he'd somehow avoided the press-- they'd settled for interviewing the girl Steve had defended-- and this was probably why he had seven voicemails from Fury on his phone, crap)._ _

__He put the empty mug and cat food bowl in the sink, intending to call it a night and get some much deserved rest and maybe a shower, not necessarily in that order. Instead, he put his coat back on. Almost before he realized it, he was back at the hospital._ _

__Hospital security was surprisingly lax-- or maybe it wasn't so surprising. Either way, Phil found it easy to slip into Steve's room without having to perjure or explain himself to any staff._ _

__There was only one person there he owed an explanation to, anyway. "Hello," he said quietly to the man still laying unconscious. "I guess I haven't technically introduced myself, have I? I'm Phil Coulson. I work at the train station; I sold you a train pass I don't know how many times. I don't know if you ever noticed me, but I noticed you. Every single time." Phil snorted. "Skye was right, that does sound pretty creepy." He sat down and pulled his chair closer to the bed. "It's true, though. You are very noticeable, you know. Not just your looks, though of course that doesn't hurt. But the way you always had a smile, even on the busiest days; the way you would go out of your way to help others, and could get complete strangers to trust you... I mean, I'm pretty sure I am far from the only person that's fallen for you at that train station." He winced. "Sorry, poor choice of words."_ _

__Steve's breathing didn't change; his eyelashes didn't flutter. Phil took his hand, taking comfort in finding his pulse even though there were machines doing the exact same thing. "I'm sorry that I let your family think we're engaged. And that I couldn't do more to help save you. I did everything I could have, I know, but, well, old failure analysis habits die hard. I'll probably be examining every 'what if' for weeks. So I promise I'll tell them later, explain everything, but for now... I just need to know that you're going to be okay. Even if you're offended or creeped out and never want to see me again, that would be okay. I just-- I don't think I could handle being left wondering."_ _

__~*~*~_ _

__"I'm sorry, sir, visiting hours are over."_ _

__Bucky shushed the night shift guard or nurse or whoever he was without taking his eyes off where Phil was starting to doze off over Steve's arm. "It's all right," he said softly. "We're family."_ _

__"But our policy states that only one family member may stay overnight with the patient..."_ _

__"I'll come back in the morning then." He patted the other man on the shoulder. "Merry Christmas."_ _

__~*~*~_ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er, friendly disclaimer that I am doing little if any research, especially medical. Feel free to let me know things for future reference, but, uh, don't judge me too harshly?

~*~*~

"Phil! Did you sleep here all night?"

Phil blinked open eyes gritty with sleep. Thor loomed over him with a look of friendly concern that did not keep Phil from jolting up from the side of the hospital bed. He winced as various joints and muscles protested having slept at such an awkward angle. "Sorry--"

"There is no need to apologize. Your concern is as our own." Thor placed a hand on his shoulder. "But we can stand watch over him now, while you rest and care for yourself."

"Yeah," Kate said from the doorway, not looking up from her cell phone. "We've got this."

"All right," Phil said. "Thank you. You'll let me know if..."

"Of course. And-- oh!" Thor snapped his fingers. "Since our Christmas celebrations were interrupted by this unpleasant incident, we are instead having a family dinner this evening. We would be honored if you could join us."

"I, uh." This was the point when Phil should explain the truth and either throw himself on their mercy or make a fast escape. "I really couldn't intrude--"

"It would be no intrusion!" Thor assured him. "There is always plenty for everyone, and we would love the chance to get to know you better." His smile turned sly. "Also, it would be the perfect opportunity to see the childhood pictures and hear the stories that Steve would be too embarrassed to share, were he present."

"Oooh, yeah, wait until you hear about the Squirrel Crusade," Kate said.

"The Squirrel Crusade?" Phil repeated, tempted despite himself.

The teen smirked. "Come to dinner tonight and we'll tell you alllll about it." She looked back down at her phone. "Oh, also Clint will be there."

"Indeed?" Thor said. "Has the weather in Denver improved enough for him to travel?"

"Apparently. He just texted that he's about to get on the 10:30 flight." Kate held up her phone. "You really need to meet him," she said to Phil. "He's pretty awesome." She shrugged. "You know, when he's not being an idiot." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "And sometimes even when he is."

Phil smiled weakly. "It sounds wonderful, and I'm honored to be invited," he said, "but I... just don't know if I can make it."

~*~*~

Phil sat in his apartment some hours later, staring at the TV turkey dinner he'd heated up. Cap sat on the table next to it, happily devouring a can of fancy cat food as her own Christmas dinner. His favorite Christmas record was playing on his vintage phonograph, the lights on his Christmas tree were twinkling, and he'd even put on the ugly Christmas sweater his father had given him five or six years ago as a joke. None of it made the apartment feel any less empty.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. A text message from Thor gave an address, along with an apology for forgetting to tell him sooner. "Well, there goes that excuse," Phil said to Cap. He scratched behind her ears. "But a quiet night in is good, right? Much better than lying my way into someone else's house and family just for a fancy dinner and some childhood stories."

His phone buzzed again; the number this time was unfamiliar, but Phil suspected it was Kate or one of the others, since the message was, "Better get over here soon-- Carol's eggnog goes FAST" with a photo of Thor and Natasha standing by a roaring fireplace-- a real one, with stockings over the mantelpiece, not the TV channel that Phil had barely decided he wasn't quite desperate enough for-- holding cups presumably filled with said eggnog and laughing.

Phil frowned and zoomed in on the background of the photo. Sure enough, one of the stockings on the mantlepiece had "Phil" written on it. Very obviously done at the last minute, with felt and glitter glue, but still. 

Phil blinked, hard, then got up to get his coat. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell them when he got there, but he owed it to them to say it in person.

_Besides, it's been years since I had homemade eggnog._

~*~*~

Phil stood at the edge of the sidewalk and stared up at the huge, fancy house that was just barely this side of a mansion. Christmas lights and wreaths covered the house and yard, and he could hear the laughter and bustle long before he reached the door. It was the kind of house you only saw in Christmas movies and TV specials, the kind Phil hadn't really believed existed in real life. "Next thing you know I'll be meeting Santa Claus," he muttered. He clutched the bottle of wine he'd brought to his chest like a shield, took a deep breath, and started up the sidewalk.

"Hey, you made it." Bucky waved from one of the rocking chairs off to one side of the porch.

"I hope you weren't waiting out here for me," Phil said.

"Nah, it was just my turn to escape for some fresh air and a bit of peace." He gestured at the empty rocking chair next to him. "But hey, come sit, talk a minute before you go in and meet everyone."

"Okay." Phil sat down.

"So," Bucky said, not losing his smile. "I have a confession to make."

" _You_ do?" Phil said.

"Yeah, see, I heard what you said to Steve last night."

Phil's stomach plummeted. "I swear, I was going to tell you, I just--" He started to get up, but Bucky waved him back.

"No, it's okay, really, I understand why you did it. I'm not mad, I swear." Bucky paused. "Actually, I was wondering if maybe you'd mind... _not_ explaining to everyone just yet."

Phil stared at him. "You want me to keep lying to your family about my nonexistent relationship with Steve?"

"Well, I don't want to force you to do anything you're uncomfortable with," Bucky said, "but essentially, yes."

"Why?"

"Stop looking like you're going to bolt and get comfortable, and I'll tell you." Phil frowned but sat back cautiously. "See, none of us are technically related by blood in this family. Well, except for Sharon and her parents, but the rest of us... Okay. Once upon a time, little Steve Rogers was adopted by an awesome woman named Peggy Carter. He and I had both been in the system a while by that point, so when I was spending basically all my free time there anyway, she decided she might as well adopt me, too. Some of the others, like Sam and Clint, were fostered, and some, like Thor and Kate, just stayed with us unofficially while they worked some stuff out. But no matter what our official or legal status, once we got here, we're family."

"That's wonderful," Phil said softly.

"Yeah, I know, we're all lucky as hell. The thing is, Peggy was the one who gave us all a home, but it was-- it's always been Steve who really brought us together." Bucky looked away now, out at the lights in the yard. "Summer before last, Peggy passed away, and it hit Steve the hardest. He hid it well, holding the rest of us together through the roughest parts at the beginning, but then on the first anniversary he took off. Went on a road trip to find himself for a few months, and even when he came back to town, he got an apartment of his own, said he just needed some time to himself to work things out. He promised to be home for Christmas, but then..." Bucky gestured in the general direction of the hospital. "I think a lot of us are feeling like we failed him. I know I am."

Phil swallowed. "I'm so sorry. But I don't understand how I can help."

"Phil, when we got to the hospital yesterday, I was expecting a practice run for a wake. A lot of standing or sitting in uncomfortable silence, occasional pathetic attempts at saying something encouraging, a bit of snapping at each other while trying not to blame ourselves. Instead, we found you."

Phil raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to be a distraction?"

"You're already more than a distraction, Phil. You're a connection. We have our memories of Steve, sure, but the past can only hold us so far. We need a reminder that his present is more than just that little hospital bed. That's he's going to have a future."

"You think I can give everyone some hope."

"Pretty much." Bucky smirked. "Plus I think Thor's already imprinted on you, and you don't want to disappoint him, his puppy eyes are nearly as bad as Steve's."

Phil couldn't hold back a laugh. "If I do this," he said slowly, "how long would it last? I don't think I could keep it up indefinitely."

"Oh, a week or two, tops," Bucky said. "The doctor's pretty confident that this is a short-term coma, and when he wakes up, everyone will be so excited they won't care about our little charade. And I promise, I'll explain to everyone it was my idea. You won't have to worry about a thing." He grinned. "C'mon, what do you say?"

Before Phil could respond, the front door opened, and Natasha looked down at them with one raised eyebrow. "Just how long are you planning to keep Phil out here in the cold?"

"We were just about to come in," Bucky said. He stood up and held out a hand. "Right, Phil?"

Phil looked at the outstretched hand. Grabbed it and let Bucky pull him to his feet. "Yes, we were."

~*~*~

"No way," Phil said. "No _way_ is that Steve."

Thor laughed. "Did he not tell you how small he was as a child?"

"He, uh, he mentioned growth spurts, but _this_......" Phil stared down at the photo album, full of pictures of an incredibly tiny, scrawny teenaged Steve Rogers. He tried to imagine that scrawny kid becoming the well-built specimen he was familiar with; his mind boggled at the attempt.

Bucky laughed. "You think it's hard to wrap your mind around now, try growing up with the Tiny Steve version and coming back from a summer trip to meet post "growth spurt" Steve. I didn't recognize him at first."

"You were also kind of put out at no longer being the tallest," Sharon Carter (who was apparently the late Peggy's niece) said. "Sulked like a baby anytime Steve couldn't see you for weeks." Bucky threw some caramel popcorn at her; she caught it and popped it in her mouth with a smirk.

"Still," Sam Wilson said, passing around another tray of eggnog, "after those immune system treatments of Dr. Erskine's, he was never sick another day of his life. No more ear infections, or strep throat, or mono, or bird flu, or _measles_ \--"

"God, the Measles Month was the worst," Bucky groaned. "Yeah, I will always gladly trade being the 'big' brother for a healthy Steve."

"Hear, hear," said Thor, lifting his glass. "To Dr. Erskine! May his treatments continue to aid Steve in his health and healing!"

"And may his hard head make up for whatever the treatments don't take care of," Carol added, raising her own glass.

"Hear, hear," Phil echoed with the rest of the group, and knocked back the rest of his own eggnog. He'd been nursing his cup a while now; Carol's eggnog was LETHAL. He still half-suspected that she was adding extra to his as some sort of Air Force v. Army prank, even though he always selected his own glass. He looked down at the photos again. "His eyes are still the same," he decided. "And his smile."

"Indeed," said Thor. "Steve's heart has never changed." His arm tightened around the small brunette next to him (his girlfriend, Jane Foster, who'd introduced herself with a smile and a plea not to make any comments about the irony of her last name in this family). He smiled at Phil. "And he is lucky to now have someone worthy to care for that heart." He raised his glass again. "To Phil!"

Phil turned red as everyone else joined in the toast, but the familiar stab of guilt was ameliorated by the warmth suffusing his body. He tried to tell himself it was just the eggnog, and accepted another cup. "So, what's this I hear about a Squirrel Crusade?"

~*~*~

As quietly as possible, Clint unlocked the front door and tiptoed inside. It was nearly 2 in the morning, and the house was dark enough to assume that most everyone was asleep.

"Bout time you showed up, idiot," Kate said from the foot of the stairs

Clint grinned. "Hey, Katie-Kate." He opened his arms as she jumped up and... punched him in the shoulder. _Yeah, I'm home._ "Ow. What?"

"You're late."

"So go punch the airline and the weather, why don't you. C'mon."

Kate glared at him a moment more, then grinned and went for the hug. "Welcome home, Clint."

Clint smiled. "Thanks, Kate." He heard a faint groan from the living room, and glanced down the hall. The room was dark, but he could make out a blanket-covered lump on the sofa. "Who's that?"

"That's Phil."

"Who?"

"Phil Coulson. Steve's fiancee? I _told_ you this, do you even read your texts?"

"Ow, of course I do, gimme a break, I'm still jetlagged." Another moan. "Is he okay?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "He had like six cups of Carol's eggnog."

Clint frowned. "I thought Carol cut most people off at four." If he'd been trying to keep up with Nat and Bucky... well, hopefully the guy had learned his lesson.

"He kept stealing mine," Kate muttered.

Clint gave Kate a look. "Isn't your limit one until you're legal?"

"Yeah, but who told him that?" she retorted.

Clint laughed. "I like him already." He ruffled her hair. "I gotta be up stupid early tomorrow, so I better get some sleep while I can."

"Yeah, okay. Night, Clint. Merry Christmas."

"You, too."

~*~*~

_"Hello, you have reached the voicemail of Steve Rogers. Please leave your name, number, and message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can." BEEEEP._

_"Steve, it's Tony. Hope you're doing well, having a good family Christmas and all that. I, uh, know I wasn't very enthusiastic the last time we talked, but this trip has given me plenty of opportunities to think about your question, and... Yes. Yes, I will marry you. This business trip is going to take at least another week, so we won't get to celebrate properly until after the New Year, but go ahead and call me as soon as you get this, don't worry about the time difference, and we'll at least give it our best long-distance shot, yeah?"_

~*~*~


End file.
